Call of Duty: Future Fronts
by PhantBat
Summary: In a sequel to the events of Call of Duty 4, a new team lead by Lt. Maria Brunner is tasked to eliminate the new Ultranationalist leader Ivan Totavich.
1. Prologue: The Nightmare

"Grandpa, Grandpa", the little girl called out.

The old man, turned around in the park, facing his granddaughter.

He smiled. "Yes Maria."

"Can you slow down?" she asked.

"Sure" he answered.

They emerged from the park to the center of the city.

Berlin. Germany's capital.

Maria had traveled with her grandfather from Dusseldorf.

They stood in front of the Reichstag, the parliament of the Federal Republic.

The old man's optimistic smile vanished. In place a frown of remembrance.

He remembered the war, the tragedy.

He had faced the Russians here in 1945.

He was lucky to be alive, and survive the war.

Maria saw her grandfather's tension.

"What is it grandfather?"

"An old memory. The war." He explained.

The war, young Maria had been taught, eight years old and she had heard about what Germany did to Europe. And what they did to the Jews.

She felt her grandfather's pain, as the man glanced at the building. It's rebuilding state, signaled Germany's resurgence on the world's stage, but this time, they were different. The wall had come down, the Cold War was over, Germans could finally breathe.

Maria suddenly saw the clouds darken, and the wind wistle. She turned around and her grandfather vanished. She was her older self now, in full uniform, an Mp5 at her side.

Berlin was in ruins, Maria saw the building be destroyed by an unknown enemy the Reichstag crumbled. Bombs ripped the skyline. Maria dropped to her knees and cried out.

"Brunner", someone called out, "wake up". "Wake up damn it!"

Brunner sprang up, from her nightmare, her superior Maj. Paul Leitner greeted her.

"Another nightmare?" he asked

Brunner nodded. The same one every time. She was with her grandfather in Berlin, as a child. And then she was fighting in the capital in a future war. The city was in ruins, just like in 1945.

She looked around the room, the rest of the unit was still asleep in the barracks, only Leitner was awake.

"Get some sleep Lieutenant", he ordered.

"Jawohl, Herr Major", Brunner managed to say.

Maria laid back but did not sleep.

She focused on her military career. She joined the officer's training academy as soon as she finished school. Four years of intense training and education. But even after 60 years of being defeated, Germany could still turn out good officers with the proper education.

She was one of the few women in her class. The German army had given up its sexist ideology in 2001 and allowed women in combat positions. Brunner had shown her instructors her mastery of weaponry and tactics, surprising everyone. Her sheer will and drive for excellence propelled her to the top of her class.

Leutnaunt Brunner was then requested by her superiors to be assigned to KSK, the German Special Forces. Colonel Lutniz liked what he saw in Brunner, a top line officer. She was assigned to Major Leitner's team.

She had made a promise years ago. A promise to make sure German military power would help the world and not destroy it. For some reason, maybe because of that reassurance, Brunner fell asleep that night.


	2. Chapter 1: Crimean Base

Sgt. John "Soap" MacTavish looked up from his vantage point, Two Ultranationalist soldiers were on patrol. MacTavish hid before they could see him. _Didn't we kill them all_, MacTavish thought.

The last attempt to eliminate the Ultranationalist had cost the lives of nearly everyone, Gaz, Griggs, Cpt. Price. MacTavish was lucky enough to get Price's 1911 thus ending the terrorist, Imran Zakhaev's life with a bullet. MacTavish was then rescued by Russian Loyalists.

Now here he was in the middle of the Crimea in Ukraine, at another Ultranationalist base. His SAS team ready to shut them down. Who ever was leading them was doing so more covertly. The Ultranationalists had bases throughout the entire former Soviet Union. It wasn't clear to anybody intelligence service where the main base was. So the SAS were sent in to the largest known base in the Crimea to shut it down and gather intel.

MacTavish waited until the team crept closer to the enemy.

"Permission to engage?" one of the team asked.

Soap looked at the camp, it wouldn't make a different to attack now or a minute later.

"Go ahead", Soap quietly said.

A silenced sniper bullet wizzed in the air, catching the two guards, it splattered their skulls as it passed through. The thump of the corpses alerted the rest of the Ultranationalists. Soap, and the rest of the team opened fire and advanced. Soap spilt his team and they began to take out the enemy building by building.

It was a makeshift camp at best given that this was presumed to be a main Ultranationalist operations center. Something didn't feel right, and Soap MacTavish knew that when things didn't feel right.

"Shit"

An RPG round whizzed by the Sergeant's head as he fired away with his Mp5. He stormed every building sweeping for any intelligence that could tell NATO forces how much of a problem the Ultranationalists were this time. Soap had a bad feeling they were as great a threat as they were last time. Soap threw a flashbang into the last large building, and fired away. The terrorists weren't much of a threat as expected. MacTavish focused his attention on a large TV screen set up in the building. A discomforting thought entered his head. They were expected. An entire group of Ultranationalists were sacrificed. Worse yet, someone had tipped off that the SAS were assaulting this base.

Soap saw the image flicker, and a man come on screen. He was wearing military fatigues, flanked by a pair of terrorists, He was largely bald, with blue eyes that seemed to focus directly on Soap.

"My name is Ivan Totavich, and I come to avenge a man's death and continue his dream. His dream to one day restore our Motherland to its former glory, to once again spit in the faces of the West. The man's name was Imran Zakhaev. The man was killed for his dream, but the goal lives on. As I speak my forces are attacking NATO embassies across our former territory, this is but a first step in a larger war."

The man's head got out of the way as he showed the scenes of battle in Eastern European cities, probably former Soviet ones.

Soap frowned he never remembered once hearing of an Ivan Totavich when he first fought the Ultranationalists. MacTavish knew nothing of the man. It made him feel worse.

"If the West does not pay $50 Million in war reparations for the death of my friend, I will destroy you; I have access to nuclear weapons."

The terrorist smiled, making Soap uneasy. " I will set a timetable tomorrow. For now enjoy our resurgence."

The terrorist laughed on the screen. Soap shot at the TV with his 1911. The same weapon Price gave him to kill Zakhaev. The screen shattered.

"What now sir", one of the SAS operatives asked.

Soap saw a map on a table. He looked at it. Circled was a spot in the Caucasus Mountains.

"Signal the Yanks", he said, "We've got a job for them."


	3. Chapter 2: Mountain Strike

Sgt. Eric Taylor watched the scenery outside his helicopter window. Beautiful country he though as the Blackhawk passed the mountains. The Marines had been ordered by headquarters to check out a site marked on a map in the area, belonging to Ultranationalist forces. NATO alongside the Russian Loyalists had a full scale war on their hands up in Eastern Europe and it was feared that the conflict could get nuclear, literally. With hundreds of thousands of nukes in Russia, only one was needed to change the balance.

Taylor continued to enjoy the sight of the mountains, as the chopper passed them. He had grown up in a suburb of New York City. Mostly flat hilly country no outstanding features to see. He had seen the beauty in his own country, but something was different. Perhaps it was a different country that made it stand out. He looked up at Mt. Elbrus and was awed by the summit of the promontory. But his thought now drifted at the matters at hand. "Let's hope the Brits' intelligence on this is good", because I don't want us shot at for nothing." He told his men. He was quite sure however this wasn't a useless adventure. Taylor watched the Sun set over the mountains and looked at his watch in a few hours his squad would attack the Ultranationalists.

2100 hrs. The Marines moved out, slowly approaching the enemy. Taylor looked at the rest of his squad, Sanders was armed with a SAW, Tripp with a shotgun, Massey with an AT4 in case of enemy vehicles the rest of the company were armed with M4 Carbines including Taylor. The squad was passing through an area enclosed by a rock wall went the proverbial "shit hit the fan". It only took the clack of an AK to tell Taylor what he suspected all along.

"Shit Ambush" Sanders said as he began to lay down defensive fire.

"Fuck this", Tripp said, "Can't we just let Massey blow the Ruskies all to hell Sarge?"

Taylor got up to the Midwesterner, "Tripp I need those rockets on armor, unless you want the shit squashed out of you by a fucking tank."

"I'll pass Sarge"

Taylor tried to get a read on the enemy, the darkness concealed their numbers and composition. The Marines could be facing a small infantry squad, or a whole battalion backed up with armor support.

"Homeplate this is Outfielder, we've run into an ambush request immediately UAV recon, for tactical analysis."

"Outfielder" Homeplate responded, "We're sending a UAV overhead."

Taylor heard the light drone of an aerial vehicle overhead.

"Outfielder", headquarters responded, "We've got approximately 35 armed hostiles near your position. Also have BMPs and Tanks headed in your direction as well."

Shit, Taylor said under his breath, "Can you get air support to deal with that armor."

"Affirmative Outfielder, sending a B2 to a tactical bombing mission."

It wasn't that Taylor had faith in Massey's abilities in tank killing but there were too many targets for one marine to destroy. Taylor returned his attention on his men, Sanders was provided excellent suppressing fire, as Tripp rained hell on the enemy with his shotgun. Then Taylor saw salvation. He didn't hear the engines, he didn't see the aircraft itself, all he saw and heard was the large explosions several klicks in front of him. The reinforcements were destroyed.

Taylor tapped Massey. "Massey blow them all to hell", he ordered.

The Marine followed orders, using the anti-tank weapon to destroy the enemy formation. The results were quick and obvious. The survivors that weren't killed retreated. Taylor let out a sigh of relief. They were lucky. None of the Marines had been killed. Taylor continued the advance into the enemy camp. And found a disk lying on top of a computer keyboard.

"What do you think?" he asked his men.

"Let's hope it don't blow us up" Tripp added.

Taylor placed the disk in the computer. The image of the new Ultranationalist leader Ivan Totavich appeared on screen.

"Greeting, my American adversaries", Totavich began.

"How the hell did he know we were coming?" Sanders asked stunned.

Taylor frowned; there was a snitch in NATO.

"As you can imagine I was expecting you", He laughed.

"Now you are to deliver this disk to your superiors. In one week I will launch a nuclear missile at one of your illustrious cities, and reduce it to radioactive rubble."

Taylor frowned as he saw the madman laugh out loud.

"Now what Sarge?" Massey asked

"To be honest marine", Taylor said gravely, "I have no idea."


End file.
